Queen of the One Percenters
by TBM1
Summary: Lyla Cummings is your typical petty thug, but when she meets criminal mastermind, Carmilla Jones, they are going to own Los Santos. Guns, drugs, murder, bikers, and angry Russians. What could go wrong? Adventure and romance with plenty of humor and drama.


_**Author's Note: Hey everyone, long time no see. So I know I'm taking on a lot of stories here but they are all still in progress. This is another collab between me and my friend that helped me create Running; I created Carmilla and she came up with OJ. These are our GTA online characters so they are OC's, but we will have some references to the main storyline of the game and some cameos. There are also some Saints Row references. Enjoy!**_

The store should have been an easy enough target. It was the generic convenience store, where stoners would stop in to get a quick fix for their munchies and horny teens could grab a cheap box of condoms. Lyla, known to her friends as OJ, was not looking to solve such easy issues however. Her custom Canis Mesa was in the shop again, and her tradition of sinking every penny she could steal into it wasn't letting up; at this rate she would never be able to get a house.

As she drew nearer she saw a blue and black convertible Elegy parked down the road from the store a ways. There was no sign of the owner in the shop, as she highly doubted that the man standing at the counter owned such a nice car on his salary. That would make for her getaway vehicle. There was only one guy in the store, there is no reason she should be this nervous. She's not robbing Fleeca here, just some poor Indian guy. Still, her heart was pounding and her palms were sweating profusely. She pulled on her simple black driver gloves and pulled up the hood of her dark hoodie that was dominated by the graphic of a marijuana leaf, tucking her long wavy black hair into it; her favorite sunglasses over her dark eyes topped off her ensemble. She took in a shaky breath and tried to march into the store as confidently as she could.

Emphasis on tried. She pushed the door as hard as she could and it didn't move, the force she put into it almost made her slam her face into the glass. "Puta…"

"You must pull it!" The man behind the counter shouted at her in a thick accented tone, shaking his head in disgust before looking back down to his magazine.

OJ felt her cheeks flush, and she ripped the door open as harshly as she could, trying to seem intimidating. Her small pistol was drawn from her hoodie quickly, and she shoved it into the man's face, making him stare down the barrel. His hands went up and the magazine went down; she felt herself smirk. "Okay dick cheese, you're going to give me all the money that you've got!"

"This is the third time this week! Why the hell did I even come to Los Santos?" His voice was quavering heavily, his hands shaking even harder. He was fumbling with the register and nearly dropping all of the bills that he was taking out of it. Fists full of bills, he froze, looking around.

"Oye, no funny shit okay? Put the fucking money in the bag and lets go!"

He gesticulated rapidly in distress, almost dropping the bills. "You don't even have a fucking bag, lady. What am I supposed to do?"

 _Shit, he's right._

After a moment of panic, OJ noted the rack of plain plastic bags that said "Thank you!" in several different languages. She gestured the barrel of the gun towards them, struggling to control the shaking of it; she really should have smoked before this. "Use one of those!"

The man grabbed the bag shakily, but seemed to be getting angry. "Damn scum like you are the reason people in this town can't make an honest living."

His eyes suddenly focused on something behind OJ and she was immediately aware of the sound of someone approaching her quickly. She whirled around without a second thought and immediately found herself looking at her own reflection in a pair of dark sunglasses. Her brain had about two seconds to process dark blue hair, shaved on the sides and messily pushed back and falling to the right, and some of the most beautiful red lips she had ever seen. She started to bring her gun up, preparing to shoot this strange woman; however beautiful she may be, she was still a witness.

The blue haired woman caught the gun barrel as soon as it pressed against her flat stomach, and she had snatched the gun out of OJ's hand so swiftly that it took her a few seconds to process that the cold steel was pressed against OJ's own skull. This strange woman smirked, pulling back the hammer with a dangerous click. OJ felt her eyes widen underneath her sunglasses. "Why don't you let me show you how its done, sweet thing?"

Blue Hair drew a silenced pistol from her pants, the shiny metal covered in engravings and intricate designs. OJ's gun was lowered from her head, and the woman pushed past her to move closer to the shop keeper. "Put all the money in the goddamn bag you smelly fuck! And pick up the drawer and give me all the hundreds and fifties underneath it!" Her gun recoiled quickly and silently five times, piercing holes into the wall behind the man, puncturing packs of cigarettes and blowing open packs of swisher sweets. He dropped down slightly, covering his head and crying out inarticulately in fear.

Blue Hair went down after him, bending far over the counter to hoist him up roughly by the collar of his shirt. _Holy shit. I love her._ OJ's jaw nearly dropped as she took in the other woman's thick backside as she bent over. She wore tight black leather pants with slits making their way down the sides, black high heeled combat boots covered her feet, and she appeared to have a white t shirt with the sleeves rolled up underneath her dark denim vest.

She came back up, holding him by his shirt and growling her demands in a smoky voice that OJ could listen to for hours. "Get your shit together or I'll cap your whiny ass and do it myself!" She dropped him and he nearly smashed his head into the counter. He was shaking everywhere, barely able to take his eyes off Blue Hair; OJ found herself in a similar predicament.

It took OJ a moment to realize that the woman had apparently pushed her gun back into her hands, because she was standing there watching Blue Hair take over her robbery with her own gun cradled against her chest. Not knowing what else to do, she began cramming candy into her pockets; soon the cigarettes and cheap cigars behind the counter caught her attention. OJ's gun soon joined Blue Hair's in the poor guy's face. "Let me get some of those cigarettes!"

He gave her an exasperated look, but Blue Hair's gun poking him sharply in the cheekbone reminded him of who was in control here. He grabbed a few random packs of cigarettes and started to put them in the bag. "Oye, no! Take that cheap bullshit out of there and gimme those Redwoods! And swishers, the tropical fusion flavor!"

The bag rustled as he hastily rearranged the tobacco products. OJ felt guilty as hell, as she usually did during and after a robbery; she was a criminal but she wasn't a complete sociopath. She still had a conscience and these were still people that were fearing for their lives. Despite that, she still got a massive adrenaline rush out of it; the danger and the feeling of power were positively exhilarating.

The man held out the bag and OJ snatched it quickly out of his hand, grinning at the thought of the money inside. She barely had time to savor the thought however before Blue Hair's hand was wrapped around her wrist and she was being pulled towards the door.

The man was yelling something after them, but they were both laughing loudly, running together down the street. OJ let her fingers lace with Blue Hair's, looking over at the strange woman through half lidded eyes. She felt high, her anxiety suddenly dissipating into ecstasy. Blue Hair was pulling her towards the Elegy; she must have had the same idea about stealing it.

"Can you hot wire it?" OJ looked at her curiously.

"I don't need to, darling," Blue Hair pulled keys out of her pocket, pushing the button with a grin. The lights flashed as the locks audibly released and OJ found herself incredibly confused but also excited. She got in the passenger seat without a second thought, and barely had time to put her seatbelt on before the other woman was smashing the gas pedal to the floor. The engine roared and OJ was pushed back in her seat, her brain feeling like it had just gotten mashed to the back of her skull.

Her gloved hands fumbled for the seatbelt, clicking it into place before looking out the back window to see if anyone was in pursuit. She didn't hear sirens yet, nor did she see red and blue lights. "I think we're okay; who the hell are you?" OJ pushed her hood down, taking off her sunglasses with shaky hands so that she could better look at the strange woman.

Blue Hair had a huge tattoo covering her right bicep of a woman kissing a grinning skeleton, and another covering most of her left forearm of a strange intricate design that seemed random but was beautiful. OJ found herself wondering how many tattoos this woman had.

"I'm Carmilla, but you can just call me the woman that saved your robbery from going to shit," Carmilla grinned cockily, her even white teeth contrasting nicely against her crimson lips.

OJ felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment. "Hey I've been doing this for longer than you realize, okay? I started stealing shit when I was like thirteen, and robbed my first store at fifteen."

Carmilla gave her another smirk, taking her eyes off the racing pavement for a second. "That doesn't tell me much; how old are you anyway? Like sixteen?"

OJ's cheeks flushed even darker now with frustration, which Carmilla seemed to enjoy, "I'm nineteen, okay? I'm legal, like I can buy cigarettes and shit." She tried to sound like she was talking big, but her voice came out sounding more like a whiny teen; she cringed internally.

Carmilla laughed, her smoky voice filling the interior of the car with the beautiful sound. "You've still got a lot to learn; you're sloppy and unfocused. Didn't you steal candy?"

OJ opted to glare out the window at the buildings racing past, feeling her brow furrow. "Look I'm hungry, okay?"

Carmilla gave an amused hum, reaching into the pocket of her pants and pulling out an almost crushed soft pack of Redwoods, drawing one out and plucking it from the pack with full lips painted a deep crimson. OJ watched the other woman make all of her moves carefully, as if she had done this many times while driving. The end of the cigarette was ablaze shortly after meeting the flame of a silver Zippo, the bright red glowing in contrast to the deep reds and purples that made up the setting sun behind the blue haired woman.

The sharp smell of the cigarette filled the car as Carmilla exhaled a small plume of smoke, her long thin finger gently tapped the button to roll down the windows. OJ felt herself relax, finding comfort in this odd woman's presence. The salt of the ocean was becoming stronger in the air, OJ began to wonder where exactly they were headed.

Her phone vibrated in her pocket, and she leaned back slightly in her seat to fish the thing out of the pocket of her tight jeans. Terrence had sent her nearly ten text messages. "Jesus Christ, man," OJ sighed loudly, a deep annoyance in her voice. The urge to wind down the window and toss the piece of tech out of the car was overwhelming.

Carmilla pulled her cigarette away from her plump lips, the butt stained a light crimson. "What's all that about?"

For some odd reason OJ felt incredibly embarrassed and sheepish, almost like it was too hard to believe someone so perfect like Carmilla existed in the same world as someone as cringe inducing as Terrence. Her voice came out low and hesitant, "So there's this guy, right? We've been friends since we were kids and he has always had a huge thing for me; but he is a huge fuckboy. Like vaping, wearing a snapback backwards, blasting shitty rap, and acting hood as fuck despite living in the suburbs with his nice rich white family."

The blue haired woman suddenly burst out laughing, nearly dropping her cigarette and making the car swerve slightly. She quickly corrected the action, still chuckling to herself. "And what? He's trying hard to make it happen and you already got a man?"

OJ shook her head slightly. "I mean, I haven't really dated a guy in forever. I've been pretty much just interested in girls for a long time." She felt her cheeks color slightly as hope welled up inside her that possibly this woman might have even a minuscule interest in her.

Carmilla nodded slowly as she took a hit from her dwindling cigarette. "I can relate, although most people don't want to stick around with me anyway." Those elegant fingers flicked the remains of the tobacco out of the window. Her expression was unreadable under her dark sunglasses.

OJ nearly opened her mouth to ask the other woman to elaborate, but she decided against it. They had only just met, and these definitely weren't the conditions to be asking her to share her life story. She brought her attention back to her phone screen, the contact name for Terrence nearly making her chuckle.

 _I_ _GNORE_ _: Hey girl where you at?- 7:30 PM_

 _I_ _GNORE_ _: Hey there beautiful :) - 7:53 PM_

 _I_ _GNORE_ _: Damn, I'm so bored – 7:55 PM_

 _I_ _GNORE_ _:_ _Mom's being a total bitch, I just wanna see my fav girl and get blazed – 8:00 PM_

 _IGNORE: Hellooooooo babeeeeee – 8:11 PM_

 _IGNORE: Are you just reading my messages and not replying? Why you gotta do a nigga like that :( - 8:23 PM_

 _Missed FaceTime call from IGNORE (3)_

Feeling a small bit of guilt, OJ decided she would text him back. As annoying and desperate as he was, Terrence often gave her a place to stay and was a pretty loyal friend.

 _OJ: Sorry man, I got caught up in some stuff and this chick had to help me out. I'm cruising with her, I'll be at the beach soon. - 8:35 PM_

Within not even a minute of giving a response, her phone vibrated again.

 _IGNORE: Making new gal pals? Who's ur new friend?_ _She hot?_ _\- 8:35 PM_

She was almost positive that Terrence was asking if she was hot to simultaneously give himself something to fantasize about, while also considering if she was a threat. OJ was pretty sure that Carmilla would hardly consider her a "pal" anyway; even as much as she wanted to be close to this strange blue haired woman. She slid her dying phone back into her pocket, turning her attention back to the other woman.

The azure haired woman spoke before OJ could even start to form a thought. "Where am I taking you?"

The younger woman felt a feeling of panic suddenly. The thought of Carmilla dropping her off and just being gone and out of her life made her stomach twist with anxiety. "Um, the beach I suppose. I'm supposed to meet my friend there. Where will you go?"

Carmilla gave a small hum of thought. "I have other things to take care of; don't get me wrong though, I've been enjoying our time together." She smiled widely at OJ, her white teeth seeming too perfect for her to be an actual person.

OJ felt her cheeks lightly color, and she opted to look outside the window at the buildings rushing past instead. They were already nearly to the beach, and for some reason that made her incredibly depressed. She wanted to ask Carmilla if she would ever see her again; but she couldn't imagine why the azure haired woman would actually need to see her again.

The blue and black Elegy was pulled into a little parking area before Carmilla cut the engine and started to get out, OJ following her actions. The older woman leaned against the front of the car, taking in the gorgeous sunset. All of the different burning colors almost made her skin appear to glow. It reflected off those dark sunglasses, and made her expression seem unreadable.

The younger woman shifted uncomfortably as she leaned against the hood of the car. Part of her was nearly dying to get to know this strange woman better, but she didn't want to seem weird. The plastic bag full of money, candy, and cigarettes felt nice and hefty in her grip, and the fresh adrenaline continued to pump through her veins. There were many emotions clashing within her at once.

OJ rolled the bag up tightly, stuffing it into the front pocket of her hoodie. Looking down at the graphic of an over sized marijuana leaf that dominated the cloth, she suddenly felt even more embarrassed and immature. Sighing quietly to herself, the darker skinned woman pulled her twin french braids out of her hood and let them fall over her shoulders. As she smoothed out some flyaways, she noticed the azure haired woman glancing over at her.

Carmilla's crimson lips curved up into a smirk, and she let her pale fingertips gently trace one of OJ's braids. Her eyes were hidden and unreadable; OJ wished she would take those damn sunglasses off. "You have such beautiful hair."

"Thank you, I do it myself." The Spanish woman tried her best to seem collected, but she was blushing heavily under Carmilla's gaze.

Almost as if she had read OJ's mind, she slipped off her sunglasses and slipped one of the arms of them into her pocket so that they would hang and not be crushed. Now that she could really see the other woman's face, OJ had confirmation that Carmilla was pretty attractive. High cheekbones, dark cateye eyeliner, bright emerald eyes, and those red lips made Carmilla seem like she was from a different time.

Tearing her eyes back to the sunset, OJ fumbled in her pocket for the bag. She pulled out several packs of cigarettes and a fistful of bills. "Here, for saving my robbery," She gave Carmilla a wide grin as she pushed the spoils toward the slightly taller woman.

Thin fingers caught her own, carefully closing her fist and pushing it back toward herself. "No need, I'm not here for the money." Carmilla gave a genuine smile, urging OJ to keep all the loot for herself.

Confusion flashed through OJ's mind. "Then why did you help me?" She had serious doubts that this woman had helped her for any other reason than money, but found herself simultaneously intrigued and worried.

Carmilla ran a hand through her short blue hair, pushing it back and away from where it had started to fall in her face. "Well, my options were to shoot you in the back and take it over from there, or help you. I contemplated the first one, but decided that it would be a complete waste of your potential." She gave a smug grin, and OJ actually couldn't tell if she was joking or not about contemplating her murder.

A nervous giggle escaped the Spanish woman's pouty lips as she let her eyes drift off to the setting sun. "My potential?"

"Mhm, you're young and daring enough to rob a small place like that. I'm wondering if you would ever want to hit something bigger."

The thought of the two as a modern Bonnie and Clyde or Thelma and Louise went through OJ's mind. Money was tight, she didn't really have any family or anything to really tie her down. Her only friends were Terrence, Malik and his twin brother Travon; she didn't have much to lose. "How big are we talking? The biggest places I've ever hit are small stores and shit like that. I mean I stole a bunch of shit from a Deals & Dollars once, but that's it."

Carmilla gave a rich laugh. "Deals & Dollars, huh? Well, I guess we all have to start somewhere. This is a lot bigger than any of that though, but I don't want to talk about it too much here."

OJ saw an opportunity and she latched onto it. Her heart sped up lightly with a slight nervousness, but she forced the words out of her mouth. "Maybe I can come over to your place sometime and we can discuss what you're planning."

Carmilla smiled, "I would like that," she paused for a moment to reach into the pocket of her tight leather pants, pulling out a new iFruit phone and passing it to OJ, "Put your number in here and I'll shoot you a text sometime."

Pure bliss bloomed in OJ's heart and she hastily tapped her number into Carmilla's phone before passing the expensive tech back. Carmilla slipped her phone back into her pocket, and her eyes snapped to a boy that was approaching the duo.

He had scruffy blonde hair that fell in his eyes, he wore a backwards dark snapback and baggy pants that barely clung to his thin waist. An oversized white Le Chien shirt topped off his ensemble. Carmilla smirked as he approached, "I take it this is the thirsty fuckboy friend?"

OJ felt her cheeks color slightly in embarrassment, silently praying that Terrence didn't embarrass her in any way. "There's my favorite girl!" He rushed forward, wrapping his arms tightly around OJ and crushing her into a bear hug as he spun her around. He reeked of bad body spray and cheap weed; she awkwardly patted his shoulder as he put her down.

She knew her entire face was blood red at that point, and she awkwardly cleared her throat. "Um, Carmilla this is Terrence. Terrence, this is Carmilla."

The azure haired woman gave the blonde boy a long look, examining him and arching one of her dark eyebrows at him. He gave her a light grin, quite obviously running his eyes over her entire body before holding up his knuckles to her. "Hey, call me Terry."

Carmilla gave an amused smirk and gave a small salute instead of touching her knuckles to Terrence's. She pushed off the car and started to make her way to the driver's side. "Nice to meet you, Terrence, but I've got some things to take care of. I'll see you around, OJ." The pale woman gave a winning grin before slipping her sunglasses back on and slamming her car door. The Elegy's engine roared to life, and Carmilla was soon speeding out of OJ's sight.

A small wave of loneliness washed over her despite the presence of Terrence. She wanted to talk to Carmilla for longer, she wanted to know everything about her. The blonde looped his fingers through OJ's, squeezing her hand gently and beginning to lead her down the beach.

He was smiling widely, and gently rubbing his thumb over the back of OJ's hand. He did this often and it made OJ extremely uncomfortable for many reasons. Terrence had always been one of her best friends and was pretty much like a brother to her. On top of that, he was rather fake in most ways. He was always trying to be something he wasn't, lied quite a bit, and made it a point to hit on most women that he met.

OJ awkwardly twisted her hand in an attempt to wrench it from his grasp, and he looked over at her as if she had just spit on his shoes. "Why do you always gotta be like this, OJ?"

The Spanish woman sighed deeply, clenching her jaw in frustration. "Why do you have to keep trying to make this happen? I don't get you at all, Terrence. You go from hitting on every girl you meet, even right in front of me, to being extra sweet and affectionate, to being a straight up douchebag."

She expected him to get angry, maybe call her an ungrateful whore or even just walk away without saying a word, but instead he just smiled at her. "I'm sorry baby, I'm just so tired of fighting. I know one day you'll eventually see that I am clearly the best option for you." The blonde grinned widely, gently squeezing her shoulder.

Her temples were throbbing with exasperation, and the urge to clock him across the jaw and knock that stupid hat off of his head seemed to be intensifying with each passing moment. Carmilla suddenly went through her mind, and she saw an escape. "I'm not so sure I'll even be single for that much longer anyway, besides Terrence, you know I'm not very interested in men right now." She smirked to herself as she looked over at him with a coy expression.

Terrence seemed contemplative for a moment, before he scoffed and waved a hand at her dismissively. "Yeah sure, you just haven't given me a chance, baby. You get with me and I'll make you forget all about anyone else; I'm the only man you'll need." The boy gave a cocky smirk, clearly feeling himself.

"No, you clearly are not understanding me. Carmilla said I have potential, she gave me her phone number and we are going to be working together a lot. She's perfection, and she's going to change my life." The statement was true for the most part, but a lot of it was wishful thinking. OJ wanted to cringe as soon as the words left her lips, she sounded obsessive already, but she was silently praying that it would make Terrence back off. She contemplated lying to him and telling him that she and Carmilla were already lovers, but decided that could backfire horribly.

This seemed to adequately push his buttons however, and he angrily adjusted his cap, pulling it down low and pushing it back into place several times as if he was just itching his forehead; his deep scowl said otherwise. "So you're going to be hanging out with that fucking blueberry over me? Like I'm not good enough compared to her or something?"

This was getting too amusing. "I never said that exactly, just that she can train me more. She seems older and like she has her shit together. Carmilla is tall, beautiful, and dangerous. There's something about her that is different and it's really drawing me in."

At this point, Terrence's cheeks were flushed a bright red and he refused to look at OJ. "So you're choosing some dyke with blue hair over me right now?"

OJ stopped walking with a sigh, starting to get frustrated. "I'm not fucking choosing anyone over anyone, I've told you so many times that there is literally nothing you could ever possibly do to make me like you in any way other than my oldest friend. How can I choose someone over you, when you are not even seen as an option?"

There was hurt evident in his blue eyes, but OJ was sure that he would go home and get over it within the next few hours. He would probably text her later tonight and apologize profusely so that he wouldn't ruin his imaginary chances with her. "If we are really going to have this argument again, then don't worry about coming home with me tonight." With those words he started stalking back towards the parking lot to leave.

A small part of her said that she should probably apologize, but she clenched her jaw and watched him wordlessly walk away. She really wasn't in the mood to deal with him anyway, and she still felt that ecstatic high feeling that she had gotten from her robbery with Carmilla. Worst case scenario she could text Malik or Travon to see if she could crash with either of them.

OJ didn't look as Terrence got into his car and sped away a lot faster than necessary. She decided to turn and start making her way down the beach, enjoying the gentle crashing of the waves and the breeze as the sun went down; the cool night was creeping in. There were scattered groups of people, building fires, drinking, and laughing as they enjoyed the amazing weather of Los Santos.

She made her way further down the beach toward the pier, ignoring a group of obnoxious sounding boys that were calling out to her. Her bag of contraband felt like it weighed a ton in the front of her hoodie, and she had that paranoid feeling that she had painted a target on her back. The Spanish girl always got that feeling for a while after a robbery, but she felt slightly more confident this time.

Reaching into the front of her hoodie, OJ fished around in the plastic bag until she pulled out a box of P's & Q's. She tore greedily into the box of candy, realizing how hungry she was as the smell of fried food and popcorn emanated from the pier and met her nose.

As she got closer to the pier, she found herself checking her phone more occasionally than she normally did, praying for a text from Carmilla. There was no way that the blue haired woman would text her that quickly, if she even decided to text at all, but she found herself getting her hopes up nonetheless. That lonely feeling wouldn't quite leave her, and it likely wouldn't until she saw the strange woman again.

After reaching the pier, she bought a burger from one of the many vendors that had set up shop. The food was greasy and not very tasty, but she was so famished that she didn't really care. After getting the basic need for food out of the way, she needed to resolve her current situation of having no where to go. Sending a quick text to Malik asking if she could borrow his couch was her next priority. As she sighed and laid down her phone on the weathered picnic table she wondered when exactly this current phase of couch surfing would end.

OJ didn't have an actual job, and that contributed to her homelessness. She had not been able to find one in quite some time due to her record of theft and drug possession charges. At the same time, she didn't exactly want a regular job; she had been living off of her illegal activities for years and didn't really plan on stopping anytime soon. The adrenaline and feeling of adventure to it all was exciting, and she made more money in five minutes than most people did after an entire day of work.

Robbing small stores and selling weed could make you a pretty nice chunk of change if you can be careful and quick. By some strange luck, she had never been caught after one of her robberies and had only been caught with weed a few times. Shoplifting had gotten her into the most trouble, so she didn't mess with it too much anymore.

Money was quick to come, and even quicker to go however. Saving up cash was hard for many reasons, mostly because her Canis Mesa seemed to get endless problems, and the fact that she couldn't stop adding new and unnecessary upgrades and features to it really didn't help. The vehicle was also a total drain on gasoline.

Her train of thought was interrupted by her battered phone vibrating on the table. OJ's heart kicked into fourth gear and she snatched up the device quickly, wanting to see a text from Carmilla desperately. It was Malik, saying that she could crash on his couch, but he may not be there until tomorrow because he had a "hot date" with Jason, his newest boy toy; she would also have to find her own way there. Gathering up her few belongings, she rose to her feet and started the long walk to Malik's apartment; wondering if her life would change soon.


End file.
